Lady Neptune
by Galaxy14
Summary: just another pirate story, Daniella Bowen and Thomas Kennit search for lost treasures on the seven seas but on their way they get attacked by Davy Jones


The rough seas rocked the ship throwing many of the crew off balance. Wind howled around us as the clash of metal and the explosions of cannons erupted around us. On deck two of our crew had already fallen. And I began to wonder if Thomas and Morgan were still alive. I had no worries about the captain of our ship though, I could hear his shouts ringing out above the wind and the battle raging on the beautiful ship he calls 'Lady Neptune'. Crew from the Flying Dutchman had boarded us just over fifteen minutes ago and we were definitely not ready. It was the middle of the night and the only light we had were the flickering lights of the torches and lanterns hung on the masts of the Lady Neptune. Our crew was sleeping and they had the element of surprise with them. After all Davy Jones was the 'undead captain'. His men were covered in seaweed and other various things having to do with the oceans; starfish, coral, shells and bones. But the captain of the Flying Dutchman himself never moved, he stayed at the wheel of his ship yelling in his deep coarse voice to order what was left of his crew to fire the cannons. Those cannons didn't do half the damage that his swordsmen did. As soon as they boarded our ship they were hacking away, cutting down our men. A little less than half of the crew was either in the water sinking to the depths of Davy Jones' locker or lying on the deck of the once beautiful Lady Neptune.

Someone shouted my name from behind me to warn me, but as soon as I heard the first syllable I was spinning around. As I turned I faced what could be the ugliest man - or whatever he was - in the world. His face was twisted into an ever present snarl and half of his skull was covered by a coral which seemed to be growing out from his head. He caught me off guard when I spun to face him by thrusting his sword toward my chest the second I faced him. I just barely dodged his sword, even though it gave me a pretty nasty wound on my upper arm. I lunged foreword with my own weapon, my long curved sword made specially for me in Port Royal. But my attempt was stopped right as it started. The clash of metal on metal rang out above all other sounds. It seemed as if the man and I were the only ones fighting. The sheer sound of metal scraping to the edge of the other piece rang in my ears as I slid my sword to the end of his; I then arched my sword and spun to the side. Bringing the sword over my head I brought it down with enough force to cut clean through bone, and it did. My weapon came into contact with the man's shoulder just seconds later and it embedded itself deep into what used to be his flesh. Apparently that wasn't the case anymore because he just let out a booming laugh and launched me backward with one swing of his elbow. He yanked the sword from his shoulder and, to my dismay, I was weaponless and close to the edge. And that man was coming ever closer to me. That snarl was twisted even more into a smirk, almost a smile of pure joy. Of course he enjoyed the feeling of being the victor but this wasn't over yet.

Just a few feet from me, the ropes hung from the side up to the crow's nest. I grabbed on with one hand and swung myself over the edge. I panicked for a moment before I caught my footing but the man didn't give a second away. He knew my plan from the start. He lashed out with both swords, cutting the ropes I was hanging onto. Luckily, just before he was going to cut the rope loose a small explosion filled my ears and the man fell to the ground. The swords clattering to the deck harmlessly. I glanced down at the member of Davy Jones' undead crew and saw that someone had put a bullet in his skull. Though I was about to call out a small 'thank you' someone replied to my thoughts in a rough but charming voice, "you're welcome Daniella!"

Thomas. I couldn't believe that he had saved me, once again. Another favor I'd have to pay back to him. His dark short curls fell over his face as he tossed my sword up to me from the deck. I could see just a hint of one of his smiles in the dim light; it was one of those smiles that lit up his eyes, his wonderful hazel eyes. Just as soon as I caught my sword I was thrown back into action. There was still a fight going on and we had to defend our ship, well the captains' ship. I wrapped the rope around my wrist and sliced my sword through the rope attaching it to the hull of the ship. I pushed off the side and swung around the mast hacking off one of the enemies arms. But he didn't feel it at all; Thomas was there a second later shooting yet another bullet into someone's skull.

Yet, as soon as they had come aboard, they were gone. The whole battle lasted just over forty minutes and the Flying Dutchman had taken most of the damage. Thomas was out of sight as soon as he knew I was alright. He had to go find his sister, and my friend, Morgan. She had never been very good at fighting nor swordsmanship. But for now I had to forget about my friends and go see if our captain was still with us. I hadn't heard any orders been given out since near the start of the battle. Yet, I knew he had to be okay, he was always okay. I first glanced around the deck but then hastily climbed the steps to the wheel where I saw him last. There was only crimson splattered on the ground. It was then I started to become panicked. He had to be okay. "James? Where in the world are you?" I call out.

No answer came, at least none I could hear. So the next place I went to check was the captains' quarters. And yet, there he was. In his usual apparel and acting as if nothing had happened. He was at his desk looking down, intently studying a map of the oceans. I looked down at the ground for some reason and I found one of the answers I was looking for. Crimson blood. Something had happened when we were all busy fending off the enemy. He had been wounded, possibly very seriously judging by the amount of blood. He looked up from the map, as if just noticing me, "hello Daniella. I suppose the Flying Dutchman has left. No critical injuries right?"

I didn't like how he was acting; it was much too formal for his nature, "No critical injuries cap'n but two fatalities. And how are you?" I reply to him, equally formal, trying to play along in this little game.

"Who did we lose? And don't fret Daniella I'm quite fin-," he began until I cut him off. I knew exactly what he was going to say. 'I'm fine don't worry'.

"James! You aren't fine! If you can prove it then fine, let's just see if you can stand first," I say angrily. And I can see that the tone of my voice startled him by the expression that crossed his face for just a brief second. I bet he thought that I wouldn't catch it but I did. Nothing slips by me without me noticing. But he was desperate to prove himself, he grasped the side of the table and tried to push himself up, but it was to no avail. "Don't ever, ever try to lie to me again. You know it never works."

"Okay, I might have been cut up a tiny bit trying to fend off someone," he mumbled as I began to examine his wound. It wasn't as deep as mine that I got on my arm, but it was long. It ran along his right side across to his stomach, but it could be fixed. I ripped off a piece of my long red pants and tied it tightly around his wound.

"There ya go cap'n, next time try a little harder to stay focused on the task at hand," I say smirking as I stand up. I turn my back to him and head out of his cabin to check on the fatalities and injuries of the other crew members. Walking out of his cabin I could feel his gaze burning into my back. I could tell he was just staring. I don't know why, I'd been with him, on his crew, for more than a year now. I shut the door behind me and jumped down five of the stairs to get to the deck. It was close to morning now, I could just see the first dim rays of dawn coming above the horizon. There was just enough light to see the bloody murder that had just occurred. Members of Davy Jones' crew were strewn out among the bodies of our own. I searched the deck and found Thomas, and it wasn't a good sight. He was kneeling near the bow and seemed to be begging. I walked the length of the ship and when I was behind him, I looked over his shoulder and saw the body of Morgan, his sister. She had been one of the few who had their lives taken by Mr. Davy Jones. I laid my hand on Thomas' shoulder, "she's in a better place now Thomas. It'll be okay."

I could tell he was trying to keep from crying. After all what would he be if he cried? Pirates don't cry. Not unless you want to be dubbed as weak and useless. He was making a great effort and kept his tears at bay but his voice was no better. "I should've been there helping her," he says in a slow monotone voice. I shake my head and grab his arm, pulling him up so he's standing. I step in front of him and make him look at me. Even though he is taller -much taller - he does look down.

"She's in a much better place, you have to let go of her. It's what she would want. Just live the life you have, don't reminisce about what you don't have or what you've lost," I say to him softly. He nods and looks away from me. Indicating that he still wasn't ready for the death of his little sister. I sigh also and brush my dark long curly hair out of my face and tighten the bandana around my head which is keeping most of my hair behind my ears. I survey the rest of the deck. Most of the crew was now throwing the Flying Dutchman's crew overboard into the dark waters of the Atlantic. Just then, our captain, James Cortez, came out of his cabin, he was apparently feeling much better now. He glanced around then called out, "who was on watch when the attack happened?"

A small man near the mast called out to him, "I was sir. But please, don't punish me. One minute the waters were clear and the night silent but then the Flying Dutchman burst out of the waters and before I could raise the alarm someone was already slashing at me."

Everyone was looking up at James. Awaiting his decision, everyone wanted to see how he'd react. People criticize him as being one of the toughest captains on the seas, but that's only if you were new to his ways. "I'm not going to punish you Scout, but from now on we're going to have two men on watch at every moment. Day and night."

"Scout, go get some rest and Thomas and I will take watch for the rest of the day," I call out ordering people to get to work. Because Captain James wouldn't be doing anything anytime soon. My gaze shifted from the crew up to James, his hard grey eyes glared down at me. Just from his gaze I could tell that he wasn't happy with me taking over his position. But the crew didn't mind, they had always thought I'd be a better captain than James ever was, or will be. The crew also liked to obey my orders without question more than he did. James turned away, heading back into his cabin to probably, yet again, go study his maps.

Around us the wind still blew with tremendous force, almost blowing my feathered hat off my head. I looked up to see the large grey sails billowing out above us filling with wind and letting us plow through the ocean. Just a few days ago we had left port in Cadíz to sail all the way back to Port Royal. We had been docked in Port Royal just over a year ago but we had set sail across the Atlantic the first time to 'rescue' our captain, James. He had been taken prisoner by the English; they ambushed us just outside the port of Tortuga. The English Navy had a whole fleet posted outside the port and were alerted of the ship James was commanding. The Lady Neptune was attacked and boarded just as we were by the Flying Dutchman last night. But no fighting occurred, we were outnumbered badly and they weren't interested in killing us. Only taking James for interrogation and possibly be punished for his crimes. If we hadn't gotten there in time he would've been sent to the gallows for a public hanging.

From the moment they had taken James we were in action. I took command and shouted orders to raise the sails and follow the billowing white of the British fleet. Remembering this brought my mind back to the few days we spent looking for the Fountain of Youth. Searching for the mermaid and her tears, those eerie songs that they sang echoed in my mind. As I climbed to the crow's nest I began to sing their songs.

_'My heart is pierced by Cupid; I disdain all glittering gold,_

_There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold._

_Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be_

_Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea._

_My heart is pierced by Cupid; I disdain all glittering gold,_

_There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold._

_My heart is pierced by Cupid; I disdain all glittering gold, _

_There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold'_

From up in the crow's nest I could feel the intent gaze of Thomas burning into my back. I almost liked the way he admired me when I was put to work. He complemented on the many ways I decided to do things, but most often he caught me humming a tune. Like now I knew he could hear me from the wheel where he was stationed, steering the ship. This may sound creepy but every ship I've been part of the crew Thomas has too. Even though I'm only nineteen I've been aboard at least twelve ships for a year at most and I'm the most well known pirate out there at the moment. I am Daniella Bowen.

While reminiscing in my memories I remember I have to look out for oncoming ships or the port. And there it was on the horizon. Port Royal was awaiting our return; I turned to face Thomas and shouted, "Land ho!"


End file.
